


This Present State of Grace

by Faline (rubberbisquit)



Category: Jericho (US 2006)
Genre: F/M, Gooooood lord this ship will never die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberbisquit/pseuds/Faline
Summary: 6 months after a ceasefire between three countries, North America begins its recovery.  While supported by both Texas and what remains of the United States, the city state of Jericho stands alone.  Ambassador to the world Heather Lisinksi has fallen into her duties post-war with a grace and panache that makes her the perfect accomplice to Robert Hawkins’s machinations.  He drags her off to Calgary for the inaugural North American Summit to put on a smiling face while he continues his subterfuge.  Because he’s not-so-secretly an asshole, he’s also bringing the one man Heather wants more than anything but can’t have: Colonel Edward Beck.  The commanding officer of Jericho’s military still recovers from both the war and the loss of his family.  Secrets and spies aren’t really Heather’s bag.  Can she make the week away with her dignity and her heart?





	1. The Story So Far

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShirleyAnn66](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirleyAnn66/gifts).



> While I acknowledge the comics as canon, I can’t have these two hooking up without me so just forget you ever saw Beck and Heather make out. And he was absolutely in no way, shape, or form shot by an ASA double agent in Heather’s living room. Not even once. I will add the caveat that I can't get the comics to load on my computer right now so I'm going off the wiki and what I remember from reading them like 3 years ago. I'm going to be wrong on some stuff but the _spirit_ of the comics will be there. I think. I haven't made it that far in the story yet.
> 
> This was only *subtly* inspired by Bodyguard and partially by The Handmaid's Tale (TV). You'll see it if you're looking. I make no apologies. 
> 
> For Shirley Ann. OMG NEW HECK!!!! WHAT AM I EVEN DOING WITH MY LIFE?!?!?
> 
> I'm singing Dido in my head: 
> 
> _I will go down with this ship_  
>  And I won't put my hands up and surrender  
> There will be no white flag above my door  
> I'm in love and always will be

Jericho  
July 2nd, 2012

The streets of Jericho, Kansas had seen better days. Pockmarked and scorched from bombings, little was left to indicate this had once been a respectable town. An average town. The type of town travelers never passed through because it was too far from an interstate and boasted exactly zero tourist attractions. It had been quiet. Quaint.

Respectable. 

Now, the hustle and bustle of the out of the way town was silent. Streets were empty, the citizens either at home or work. It had only been six months since the mandatory curfews had lifted. Most had yet to fall back into the habit of going for something as whimsical as a walk. 

The people of Jericho still felt the boot of war on their throats. 

Before the September Attacks, Jericho had boasted a population of five thousand people. After the bombs, they'd lost some to starvation and some to health problems. Not too many, but it had seemed like too many at the time. And then the border skirmish with New Bern, their neighbor, had taken close to a thousand lives. Before New Bern, it had felt like the Attacks were something that had happened somewhere else. Jericho had survived, somewhat tenuously, in this brave new world but it was still there.

After New Bern, reality was very harsh and very visceral. Then the ASA military appeared and another hundred were gone, repercussions for disobedience. By the time that ASA military installation defected from their superiors in Cheyenne, Jericho had lost almost half their people.

But they kept fighting for America, their America with 50 stars on its flag. 

The second Civil War arrived on their doorsteps on a random Tuesday and Jericho was ready. What they lacked in bodies to make soldiers out of they more than made up for with their resilience and tenacity. Citizens became spies; the fighters worth their salt joined the recently promoted Colonel Beck of the United States military. Everyone went to war in some way against people that had, less than a year prior, pledged allegiance to the same flag. Jericho became a political and military powerhouse. It served as a layover for American and Texan forces; a way point as inch after inch of territory was reclaimed from the corrupt Cheyenne government.

The Civil War was bloody and long and no one survived it. Every man, woman, and child caught in its path had lost something during those dark years. A part of their souls they’d never get back. The city itself reflected in stark, singed buildings the damage her citizens had endured. The war was over and gone yet the ghosts of the loved ones lost roamed those streets. The citizens knew well enough to let them be. 

Where the ghosts roamed and the living avoided, sounds of arguing filtered down to the street from Town Hall. Through the open windows of the office reserved for one Jake Green, freshly reinstated sheriff and war veteran, a fight was brewing. The office had served many purposes over the years but today it was ground zero for a different battle, one of wills.

“You cannot honestly expect me to pack up and leave for Canada without so much as a ‘Hello, Heather. How was your birthday?’. Which was fine, by the way. Not that you three would know, off doing God knows what last night. Would it have killed you, even a little, to at least stop in and say hi?” Heather Lisinski was flushed, both from aggravation and embarrassment. Jake had caught her off guard when he'd summoned her to his office. Mostly because she didn’t work for him. She'd had to rearrange her entire afternoon, coaxing Charlotte the three miles into town from her offices at the military installation.

And she’d arrive to find Jake along with Hawkins and Colonel Beck waiting for her. The colonel that had somehow mysteriously not told her she would have to come down to Town Hall. He could have easily offered her a ride but he hadn’t. She was less irritated by his lack of forethought than she was by his presence. Things had felt off between them since the ceasefire had been called. It turned out that war made for fierce loyalties and she'd ended up in more than a few sticky situations with the Colonel. They'd shared parts of themselves that they wouldn't have ever considered sharing during peace time. Since the war had ended his lingering glances had lasted longer and his random gifts had become more elaborate and lavish. If Heather didn’t know any better she would swear that he was trying to court her.

She _did_ know better, however. They had a completely platonic and profession working relationship. Or friendship. Depending which one of them was asked at what time of day and where they were standing at the moment. Heather had pegged today as professional when Beck had grumbled her a distracted hello before disappearing into his war room first thing that morning. His sour expression had further confirmed her suspicions. 

“We were out on patrol, Heather. I told you that yesterday; that’s why I took you to lunch.”

She ripped her eyes away from Beck; it didn’t do to dwell on the unattainable, right? Jake almost shrank back from the fury in her stare. She took a deep breath and picked her words carefully. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter now.” Jake did shrink then as she advanced on him with a finger raised. He was a celebrated war hero but he knew better than to mess with her. “What matters is you somehow think you can rearrange an entire schedule I made for the damned mayor and insert myself in his place. As though I could a, afford to take a weekend off and b, would want to go to some cocktail sipping, elbow rubbing, politician-infested bullshit session in an entire separate another country!”

Her outburst silenced whatever defense Jake was about to mount. Beck pursed his lips, cocking his head at her anger while Hawkins spared her a single raised eyebrow. She was even a little surprised her own self at the outburst and she tamped down the urge to kill every single one of them. Instead she took a calming breath and stepped away to glance out the window. 

She had spent almost two months planning Gray’s trip to the first North American Summit. The NAS was the first of many steps forwards for the continent as it began the long road to recovery. They needed Gray to be there, first and foremost to show Jericho wasn’t going anywhere. They’d survived the damned Second Civil War and if Cheyenne or Texas or, hell, the Eastern United States of America was going to tell Jericho what they were doing next they’d have another thing coming.

“Heather, it is literally your job to handle international politics. We made you the Ambassador for a reason.” Jake’s voice had a comforting peevishness to it that reminded her of the way she used to talk to a recalcitrant student and it forced an unintentional epic eye roll. He was a dick but the man made a point. She’d been appointed to do just this. So why was she so angry about it?

Her eyes glanced back over the room, landing on Beck again. Beck who was almost casually leaning against a filing cabinet looking like this was still his office, his sacred space. Beck hadn’t occupied this office in many years; Heather remembered every one of the moments she’d glanced into his office to catch a glimpse of his face with a tenderness that could scare her if she lingered too long. She’d carried a torch for the man longer than she cared to consider and him standing there reminded her that she’d made plans while the war heroes were gone.

With Jake, Hawkins, and Gray out of the way in Canada, her workload would all but vanish. It’d leave her with plenty of time to find excuses to drag Beck out of his house. The elementary school was showing a movie on Sunday in the park. She knew she’d be able to talk him into going with her. Going to Calgary would most definitely make that an impossibility. It was disappointment more than anything that was souring her disposition. She was being unfairly critical of Jake; her voice quieted when she asked, “But why me? No, actually, I get why. I guess what’s wrong with Gray?”

“Admitted to the med center this morning with chest pains.” She whirled at Hawkins’s words, his first since she’d entered. Calm and relaxed as always, the once double-spying FBI agent had settled into the role of town manager quite admirably. His ability to trouble shoot and his knowledge of technology had made him invaluable when Jericho had started to put its infrastructure back together.

“Shit. Is he okay?” Beck beat her to the question, straightening with concern. He hadn’t been told either? Dollars to doughnuts Gray was fine, then. Beck would have heard if there was a serious problem.

Hawkins waved a hand. “Kenchy thinks it’s probably indigestion but he wants to hold him for a few days. You know how Kenchy gets sometimes. But, more than that, an opportunity has come to my attention that you would be better suited to help with.” He had that characteristic, about to do some sneaky spy stuff, look in his eyes.

Great. Hawkins had another crazy plan and he needed her. She hated his crazy plans. Not because they didn’t work but because they always did and she always ended up getting shot at. “I’m still healing from that .22 round I look to my leg from your last _opportunity_ , you know.”

Hawkins scoffed at her. The bullet had barely grazed her but she liked to remind him when he got too presumptuous with her time. Beck shifted from one foot to the other at her reminder. He’d been away at the front when she and Hawkins had made a crazy attempt at disabling a set of ASA satellite feeds not eight months ago. They hadn’t even been caught by the ASA; a farmer had taken a pot shot at what he thought was a deer while they were fleeing through the fields. 

The deer: Heather. 

She'd been fuming mad but more than capable of making it back to their vehicle under her own steam. Kenchy hadn’t even stitched it. That hadn’t kept Beck from almost taking Hawkins apart when he’d come back a few weeks later.

Beck's reaction had kept whatever little spark of hope she had in her heart alive. That, eventually, when the dust had settled and he’d had time to get his head on straight, they’d finally admit their feelings for each other and _do something_ about it.

Emily liked to joke that they were trying to outdo her and Jake for long term unresolved sexual tension.

“Heather, this is a completely safe and low risk mission. I promise. I wouldn’t be sending you if I didn’t think you’d be entirely looked after. You’re going to be at diplomatic functions, non-stop.” Oh, she was aware. She’d taken a perverse delight in almost over scheduling Gray. He’d limited her prep time in the last two weeks to accommodate scheduling for the trip.

“What’s the mission then? What’s so absolutely important that I have to be there?” 

She read her answer in the way Hawkins shifted; she just knew she wouldn’t be getting a straight reply. “There’s some mechanical specs I need help with, information that we’ll be able to use with the Canadians to barter better trade deals.” He left it there, arms crossed like he was daring her to ask him for more.

She didn’t ask. They’d worn her down and everyone in the room knew it. She hated being a pushover and hated that she’d do anything anyone asked of her if they had an honest need. Or just a regular need in Hawkins case. Logistically it wouldn’t even be difficult. There were a few activities she’d penciled Gray in for, like a golf outing with the Mexican ambassador, that would be a no-go for her but she could work around it.

Heather could work around anything if she had five minutes and a rudimentary understanding of the players involved.

Which is why she knew she wouldn’t be getting out of this trip. “I have absolutely nothing to wear and there are at least four formal occasions on the docket.”

Jake laughed, hearing the concession in her voice. “Don’t worry. I put out a notice with the Canadian government that we’d need to do some shopping. They’ll have cash waiting for you at the airport so you can get some dresses.” He leaned forward, an evil gleam in his eye. Oh she hated that gleam. “And, we should probably get Beck set up with a suit or two. Wouldn’t want him to have to wear his field kit the whole time.”

It was a tossup over who was more surprised by his remark, Heather or Beck. She dropped silent and still, gaping as she processed the statement. Beck straightened his back with a snap of his heels, his pointing finger raised and stepped towards Jake as soon as he processed the statement. Beck’s words were a low growl, “Wait a second, Sheriff. What do you mean suits for me?”

“Yup.” Jake rocked back on his heels, a gleeful smile on his worn face. “Beck, you’ll be going with as Heather’s protection detail. Should add an air of importance to her presence.” His face gleeful grin stretched wide. “Didn’t I mention that when I asked you to join us?” Beck growled again. The sound sent shivers right down her damned spine and she let out a groan.

A mini-vacation to Calgary; staying in an actual hotel with things like water pressure? With a side mission of convincing the Canadians to give them a hand with some tech so they could get back up and running? All of that was weird enough. But, with Beck? Several days working in close proximity with him shouldn’t make her blood run hot but Lord. They’d be miles from home, all alone in a foreign country.

And he’d be in a _suit_.

Heather refocused on the conversation, which seemed to revolve around whether Beck would actually be able to wear a suit. He was technically a commissioned officer; he’d have to get a set of dress blues rather than a suit.

Jake argued that since it had been his men and not the US Army that promoted him he was technically not still a part of the US Army.

That sent Beck off on another rant and Heather rolled her eyes. Beck had once explained his promotion to her and she believed it had something to do with the number of men under his command more than anything. All she knew is that he went out East early in the war and came back with some silver leaves instead of the bronze he wore as a Major. 

The man in question looked unhinged by Jake’s casual dismissal of his promotion and Heather rolled her eyes. This wasn’t helping anything. She coughed, trying to discretely interrupt Beck’s angry shouts and Jake’s humorous refusal to change his mind. She didn’t catch anyone’s attention. After a few minutes, she slammed her hand down on the table. Three pairs of eyes turn to her and she let out an aggravated grumble. 

“Look. The only one that’s allowed to be upset about this is me. I’ve gotta go find something respectable in my wardrobe and the helicopter leaves,” she looks at the clock on the wall, frowning at it, “In less than fourteen hours. But if this is our best plan of action, for the town, then I should be doing that. Not,” she waved her hand at them, “this arguing thing.” 

Jake was still grinning. Hawkins had a bit of a smirk on his face. Beck looked resigned as though he was headed to his execution rather than the Great Frozen North.

The expression shouldn’t hurt her feelings that much; he probably had shit to do this weekend too. And now he was in the same boat as her. Off to a foreign land to help save Jericho. It wasn’t their worst mission and he shouldn’t look so upset that he’d be going with her.

She was a wonderful person. A god damned delight according to several reputable sources.

Beck muttered something about getting his stuff together too before breezing out of the room. Heather watched him retreat, pointedly ignoring Jake’s inquiries about time frames for departures and returns.

It definitely shouldn’t hurt so much that he was so disappointed but her heart crumpled a little when Beck disappeared into the late afternoon sun without a proper goodbye.


	2. Chapter Two Prelude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iowa, 2009

_Prelude  
2009_

“BECK!” Heather’s voice rang out with panic as she glanced around and realized she was alone in the dimly lit barn.

The now-familiar pop-pop-pop of incoming fire sent her face down to the ground. Heather shielded her face as bullets impacted the cement above her head and she curled in tighter to avoid debris. The pistol clutched in her hand felt heavy and foreign and she wanted to throw it away as the gun shots grew louder around her.

Fuck this shit.

She should have stayed home. 

This was absolutely not the place for her. Surrounded by rubble, ballistics fire and the decomposing corpse of farm outside fucking Gentry, Iowa.

But. Here she was and here was where she’d stay until she could find her escort or she died and it wouldn’t be her problem anymore.

The noise swelled and she pressed a hand to her mouth, biting back a scream. She didn’t really want to die; there were still too many things to do. A war to fight for one. In her head, Beck’s voice was telling her that she had to move or she’d be pinned down. What had he said? Stay low and move quick?

Heather rolled to her stomach, trying not to cry out with the successive bullets still landing steadily in the concrete above her head. She had to go. She had to-

“Heather!?” Beck’s voice was anguished and panicked; he sounded as lost and frightened as she felt but she was immediately calmed. If Beck was nearby she’d be okay. She’d-

There were a handful of glorious seconds as Beck appeared. The gunfire still made her wince but his handsome face, albeit muddy and blood soaked, filled her with such relief that she knew everything was going to be fine. They were going to make it out of this and she grinned as she stood to go to him. Beck’s smile could have lit up the continent in that moment. The world was burning around her but she was fine. 

She stumbled from what felt like a punch to her chest. A second impact a little higher sent her reeling. Finally, she felt her body impact the concrete wall as she was flung backwards, the sharp stab of the third bullet finding its way under the bottom of her vest. Beck’s smile turned to horror and she slumped away, away from the noise and this awful, churning reality.


	3. Chapter Two

Jericho  
July 2, 2012

On her bed, Heather looked over her collection of denim jeans and heaved a sigh. She’d managed to keep at least one pair mostly hole free over the years but the pants fit poorly. She was almost twenty pounds lighter than when she’d bought them, a great deal at a Gap outlet in Lawrence a lifetime ago.

But, they didn’t have any holes. Unlike the rest of her jeans.

She still had a stash of clothes from teaching that had been useless in a world with unreliable indoor heating. All of that stuff was still serviceable and if she looked like an elementary school teacher amongst power brokers then so be it. Sometimes it was beneficial to look like the sweet Kansas country girl she used to be. The Canadians would eat it up. 

Beck probably would too. She had caught him more than once watching her when she was wearing a pair of tighter slacks rather than the cargo pants she was fond of. And a skirt? Even a modest skirt, picked to safely chase children in, could possibly get a reaction. She scoffed at herself in disgust; when had this become about what Beck would like to see her in?

She scolded herself; this mental argument had happened too many times, what Beck would think of her in whatever she was wearing. It didn’t matter what Beck thought of her or her outfit. She scooped up the entire pile of clean clothing and shoved it in her suitcase. 

She’d sort it out in Calgary.

She reached for the handle of her under ware drawer and gave it a stiff tug. It was an old dresser, the wood warped and swollen and it took a couple tries to get the thing free. She heaved a put-upon sigh as her sparse collection of photos tumbled to the floor with her exertions. It happened every time and every time she neglected to remember. Thankfully the glass in the frames hadn’t broken. She snatched them both up and took a second, just a moment, to remember the past.

The first was the gang, early in the war before Jake and Eric had deployed to the northern front. It’d been taken in front of town hall. The streets were filthy, windows broken with several burnt out vehicles inching in on the sides of the photo. That flag though, taken from storage and hung by Gray, waved proudly over their heads. 

Jake’s hair was freshly shorn and he had a wry smile on his face. Heather remembered he’d wanted to get on the road but Emily had cajoled him into the picture. Eric and Mary were in arm in arm, the last photo of the two of them together. The loss of Mary was so long removed now that she felt only a twinge seeing her friend’s face. Next to the couples, Heather had stood proudly. She was so damned proud that she was there with them and they’d be taking back their homeland, by any means necessary.

They had a saying in Jericho, now, when talking about those dark years.

The war hadn’t left any survivors, even amongst the living.

Heather placed the frame gently on her dresser and set the second frame next to it. It was much simpler but just as old.

She’d taken the picture herself, about two years into the war. Beck had returned from the East, newly promoted and leading another thousand men. The city had welcomed the troops with open arms; skirmishes with the ASA had been bloody and brutal in recent months. More troops on their side meant less loss and death for everyone.

They also happened to arrive just before the Fourth of July. Jericho hadn’t celebrated in several years but with an influx of soldiers wearing the true star spangled banner, it had seemed appropriate. 

There was something so iconic about streets lined with grinning citizens who cheered for soldiers marching neatly in rows. At the head of the column, Beck strode in his rigid military stance, back straight and head high.

Rather than the stern look he’d been wearing like armor since the moment they’d met, he was grinning. Arms held at his sides but grinning like a child on Christmas morning. At first glance it looked like any random shot of a crowd cheering on their protectors.

To Heather it meant many things. It meant freedom. It meant hope; it was still so early and she thought the fighting would end at any time. It was before she’d lost something of herself. This frozen moment had been almost ecstasy. And she looked at it with a smile every morning. Her fingers brushed over the glass and she placed it next to the first photo.

Underwear. She needed underwear. Comfortable was the key word and cotton was the clear choice. She also happened to have an over abundance due to a strangely lost resupply convoy that had run afoul of the Rangers last year. She grabbed a handful of the white cotton, turning to toss them on her bed. 

She’d be comfortable even if they weren’t the most attractive things in the world.

Her hand strayed back to the drawer, feeling around for a particular pair that she’d bought a lifetime ago. They were where all unused lingerie ended up, buried in the back. The silk of the fabric ran over her fingers and she smiled as she pulled the pair free. They were black, slinky, and trimmed in the softest of lace. 

Once upon a time she’d bought them for formal occasions. Weddings. Girls nights out. Dates. Whatever. She certainly hadn’t been to any of those in a good long while.

But meeting the Prime Minister of Canada would probably warrant something a bit nicer than stiff cotton. 

She sighed and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Jake was the actual worst. Yes, she had filled role of ambassador for the people of Jericho for years. Yes, she was more than well trained in diplomacy from her duty during the war. Yes, she was a good choice not only for those reasons but because her days had been overrun with attempts at finding replacement microprocessors for the small electronics around town. Hawkins’s adventure should net them, if not the processors themselves, but at least a good starting point.

No one knew more about what the town needed than her. No one knew more about the schedule for the trip. She’d labored and worried over it to optimize Gray’s short time in the city and his tricky heart.

Next to Gray, she _was_ the best choice.

And she should certainly have someone with her, watching her back. That was just common sense.

But did it have to be Beck with the bedroom eyes and the endless subtle flirting? And his soft smiles and that dumb, sweet tone of voice when he decided they needed some friend time? The man was a menace to her heart.

Heather heave out a sad, put-upon groan. Jake was the absolute worst.

A knock echoed from her first floor, faint and tentative through the house. “Oh for the love of-“ The sound ripped her from her thoughts and Heather almost stomped down the stairs. She flung open her front door. “What?!”

Beck coughed in surprise, firstly because she’d startled him with her abrupt arrival. Secondly, he was staring hard at her hand and Heather made the horribly realization she still held the black, lacy panties. And was brandishing them in his face in irritation at his interruption.

Heather froze, her face turning a lovely shade of purple. “Um. Hello, Beck?” 

He stared back for just a moment. “Hello, Heather.” He glanced at her hand. She looked at it too before shoving the fabric into the pocket of her robe. It wasn’t the most embarrassing thing that had happened to her in front of him but she’d be thinking about it, miserably, for a month at least. “May we come in?”

She was already stepping aside before asking, “Wait. We?”

Hawkins and Jake materialized from the shadows behind Beck. Heather sighed in resignation before she waved them all inside. They gave her a rundown of the parameters of the mission; she was there to make a deal for small electronics parts. In exchange, Jericho would share information as yet to be determined. She wasn’t comfortable with that. She wanted something solid.

There was a gleam in Hawkins’ eye when he leaned forward and said, “It’s yet to be determined because I haven’t found it yet.” Of course; Hawkins was vague on the details but he believed the ASA ambassador had some information the Canadians would pay dearly for. Heather frowned. There was always another angle with Hawkins and this close to the ceasefire? This was trouble.

Six blessedly quiet months had passed since all sides had laid down arms. Six months where no one had been shot, or blown up, or executed in front of her. She didn’t want to poke that bear.

She stood and paced in front of her fireplace. “This just feels exceptionally foolhardy. What if we get caught? Canada could arrest us for espionage. The ASA would be here faster that a fart in a windstorm. We all know that. Why would we risk that?”

Beck stepped in front of her, stopping her irritated pacing. She didn’t bother sparing him a glance; she just knew he’d have that concerned look of his that drove her crazy. “The details are very clean cut; the risk is almost zero to all parties involved. You know I would never sign off on anything that might put you in danger.”

Now she looked at him, glancing out from behind the fall of her hair. Beck did have that concerned look on his face but he was also trying to smile reassuringly. It came across as more of a grimace but she suspected that was because of disuse. 

Jake rose to join them and took her free hand. “If this information pans out it’s going to cripple the ASA, ceasefire be damned. They’ll evaporate into thin air. That’s worth the risk, no matter how small.”

Her stare critical, she let it drift from Jake’s smiling face to the irritated scowl on Hawkins. Beck shifted behind her and moved away. Heather glanced behind her to gauge his reaction. His eyes were fixed on Jake’s hand. He had that little line between his eyes that indicated he saw something he didn’t like but would squirrel away for a later date. Jake squeezed her fingers, bringing her attention back to him. Jake would never put her in danger. Never intentionally, at least.

Heather felt like such a pushover but gave a curt nod anyway. “Fine. We’ll do your stupid subterfuge too. Now, get the hell out of my house so I can finish packing.” Jake barked out a laugh and she corralled the three men out the front door. They had an early helicopter ride to Texas in the morning and then a much longer plane ride to Canada. 

Beck was the last to leave. His steps slowed by the door and he turned to look back at her. He eyed the black fabric hanging out of her robe pocket. Heather’s whole body deflated at the realization it’d been dangling there during the entire visit. Beck had the good graces not to laugh to loud. His contained chuckle was actually fairly adorable. Heather cracked a smile up at him and he winked back at her. “I’ll swing by and grab you on my way out to camp in the morning.” 

Her heart stuttered to a stop at the wink and she could only nod dumbly. “Have a good night, Colonel.” She closed the door on him before he could respond, saving her from any further embarrassment.

The morning came far too soon for her liking. The thought of Beck in a suit had sunk so deep in her brain that sleep eluded her for the better part of the night. 

Beck pounding on her door roused her from the uneasy rest. She hollered for him to wait and then let him in on the way to her kitchen. It was a hot minute since she’d had him over for morning coffee but with the day ahead of them, they’d both need it. She did do a double take when she finally came out of her sleep fog to realize he was business casual in a pair of khakis and a polo. He’d even slicked his hair to the side, the picture perfect office worker. Heather hid her smile behind her cup. 

Beck crooked an eyebrow, “What’s funny?”

She sighed and took a sip of coffee. “Just. You. In your yuppie outfit. Are you planning on trying to be incognito? Somehow I don’t think that’ll work, what with you being a war hero.” She gave him an expectant look.

He glanced down at his cup and heaved out a sigh. “Jake seems relatively insistent that my presence is less official and more protective like he mentioned yesterday.”

Heather didn’t think that would fly for one second. In fact, it would probably rankle Beck more that he wasn’t allowed to be a Colonel than his being there would. He was a proud man and very dedicated to the military. Whatever military he happened to be in. “That’s a shame. I was wondering if you even owned a set of formal military clothes.”

He shrugged and gave her a blinding smile. “I do I packed them, just in case, but Jake really does have some notion that I shouldn’t walk around telegraphing my position.” He frowned. “He and Hawkins both seem to think there’s some sort of plot afoot on Cheyenne’s part to disrupt our little community. He wants you to be front and center but me to be at the ready in case something should happen.”

Well that didn’t sound good. “Something? What kind of something? Should I be worried?”

He brushed a hand over hers and shook his head. “Nothing is going to happen, Heather. I promise. You’ve got three war heroes watching over you.” That did settle the nerves in her stomach _a little_ but she still wasn’t entirely sure this trip wasn’t going to end in bloodshed.

So many of her adventures had over the years she was always expecting the same outcome.

“Regardless of whether I wear dress blues or a plain old suit, I don’t think anyone will not know who I am. So, I’m trying to look as low-key and non-threatening as possible. Hence the yuppie suit.” He reached a hand out but stopped just shy of her fingers. He gave her another blinding smile instead.

He should absolutely wear a polo more often for how well it showed off his broad shoulders. She took a sip of her coffee to keep herself from telling him exactly that.

They weren’t late to the helipad but it was close. Hawkins and Jake were waiting for them. Jake gave them a head nod but Hawkins was asleep in his seat.

The helicopter flight was terrible. It was too windy and too hot for Heather’s liking. She’d also never been on a helicopter before so every bump and shift had her grabbing the seat in mild panic. Beck noticed her discomfort. Because of course he did. He offered her some gum and a kind smile. “It’ll be better when we get higher up.” She didn’t believe him but she took the gum anyway. They hit a bumpy patch and she gasped. He reached out to steady her but pulled up short.

Didn’t touch her.

Beck hardly ever touched her these days.

In their distant past he’d held her shaking body as she’d dripped blood on the floor of a barn, waiting to be rescued from a horribly botched diplomatic attempt. One hand had brushed matted hair back from her pale forehead while the other held the dirty rag over the bullet wound in her abdomen. Sometimes she woke gasping in the dark of night, the memory of his voice whispering litanies in her ear a reminder that they’d waited a long time to be recovered.

Beck didn’t brush her hair back anymore and he sure as shit didn’t whisper soft words, lips pressed against her sweaty flesh while she tried to not to panic because she was sure she was going to die in _Iowa_ of all place.

The helicopter dipped and Heather drew in another sharp breath. She convinced herself the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was from the flight and not because she always remembered these incredibly difficult and intimate moments at inappropriate times. Then had to separate the war-time Beck and Heather from the polite pair they were today. Co-workers, of a sort. He was leading Jericho’s army, dedicated to their protection whether they wore the flag of the Eastern United States or not. And they were friends, she could concede. She shared dinner off base with him a couple times a week and she’d invited him over for drinks more than once. 

Anything more than friends, though? Not so much.

Beck had only lied a little. The helicopter flight was a little easier one they’d gotten a higher. It hadn’t been a bad landing per say but she hadn’t enjoyed it. They were in Texas long enough for Beck to valiantly carry her suitcase to the plane while Jake and Hawkins laughed at him. He’d grumbled, at first in jest and then seriously when he realized how heavy it was. She’s waited for him to turn his back before allowing a pleased smile to cross her face, following the three men onto the plane. 

They were sharing a ride with the Texan delegation; over a dozen men and women were already loaded onto the large plane when the Jericho crew climbed aboard. An assistant led them to seats in a quiet corner. The Texans had replicated to look and feel of Air Force One, with wide corridors and little areas for people to meet. There was even a large section for press, although only a handful of journalists would be joining them. She’d laughed when her Texan contact had asked if she needed any press passes for her people. Journalism was useless in Jericho; the grapevine in town was a hundred times faster than any printing press.

Jake disappeared almost as soon as they were seated and Hawkins resumed his napping as soon as the fight crew closed the door. Heather stared at him for a long while, pretty sure he was faking it. She jumped when the engines started, the noise unexpected and far too reminiscent of sounds from the war. She’d been on a plane a few times before but she’d forgotten how noisy they were. Beck tried to keep up a running conversation to distract her but it wasn’t working well.

The knocking of the parking blocks being pulled had her halfway out of her seat.

Beck finally touched her then, just a hand on her wrist to calm her. She stared out the windows with an almost wild panic. “Heather, relax. It’s okay; this is all normal.”

She was embarrassed and ashamed; she was usually so collected but she was out of her element.

Slowly and clearly, Beck started describing all of the noises that were happening and what was coming next. She closed her eyes, leaning back in the seat and let him talk her through take off. In the end, it worked. Her heartbeat was slow and steady when the pilot announced they had reached cruising altitude. She opened her eyes to find Beck with that concerned look again. She smiled. “Thank you. You sure know a lot about plane sounds.”

He squeezed her wrist then took his hand back. She was sad to feel it go.

“You fly a lot in the army when you do four tours. More when you keep getting bounced from base to base.”

“That’s not normal, is it?”

He gave her a side eye and a grin. “It’s not. I spent a lot of time right before the war training special forces units. Turns out I had a specific talent for deescalating hostile towns and the army wanted me to share my skills.”

She gave him an appraising look. Well that was interesting. A small bit of the life of Edward Beck. He didn’t talk about Before very often and almost never about his service record. The US military had welcomed him back with open arms after his defection from the ASA though. So, it made sense he’d have been a bit of a hot shot.

She was about to ask him more since he was in a sharing mood when they were interrupted. A man about her age approached them. Heather noticed his clothes first; new and immaculately pressed. The second thing she noted was his sandy blond hair and fairly pleasant face. He was . . . pretty hot actually. And he was grinning at her.

Hand held out, he introduced himself as Mark Chapman, PR for the Texas President, who was somewhere on the plane. She was delighted to meet him in person; they’d been emailing about the trip and travel arrangements since early June. She had wondered about her Texan counterpart during their correspondences, if the eloquent writer on the other end was as funny and charming in real life. Mark did not disappoint. He also wouldn’t stop grinning at her, even as he took Jake’s vacant seat to go over their schedules.

Beck was quiet after she introduced him. He was even quieter through the two hour conversation she had with Mark about the next few days. It was easy for the Texan to help her adjust the activities that were more suited for Gray. Instead of golfing, she was going to extend an invitation for the ambassadors of Canada and Mexico to join her for a tour of the Tsuu T'ina Culture Museum. She should invite the ASA ambassador but they both hesitated at the suggestion. It could be perceived as a snub but Mark was fairly certain the ASA ambassador would turn Heather down in a humiliating fashion if possible and it was better to avoid the whole mess.

Mark led them seamlessly into another topic: baseball. It was on then and Heather finally had an outlet for all of the ridiculous knowledge she’d amassed while watching baseball years ago. It had been her passion for years. As a die-hard Royals fan her whole life, she was full of random trivia. Mark was delighted and wasn’t afraid to flirt with her a bit because of it.

Beck was still quiet, shifting slightly every time Mark made an overtly flirtatious comment. Heather was positive he thought he was being discrete but she could read his body language from a mile away. It had saved her life more than once and right then, it was telling her that Beck was uncomfortable with Mark. He was uncomfortable that she was smiling at Mark and the Texan was responding. Very interesting. 

Was it possible Colonel Beck was jealous of some PR guy from Texas who she’d never see again after this trip?

It was novel enough to make her stifle a giggle and turn her attention back to Mark.

Heather enjoyed the conversation immensely. She’d had few relationships outside the town of Jericho since the attacks and she loved hearing about the new baseball league that had popped up in Texas.

Mark excused himself eventually; he did actually have work to do no matter how much he enjoyed talking to Heather. He paused as he stepped away, turning back to ask if she’d like to meet up for supper once everyone was settled at the hotel.

Beck cleared his throat as she opened her mouth to agree then gave Mark a sympathetic smile. “Sadly, I am previously engaged this evening. Perhaps tomorrow?” Beck made another noise and Heather rolled her eyes. “Or perhaps the next night. Sometime before the summit ends.” Mark’s grin was blinding and he gave her a nod.

She shot Beck a reproachful glare when Mark cleared the corner and disappeared. “You’re not very friendly today.”

“I’m not unfriendly. Just . . . reserved.” He was standoffish, was what he was. And Heather didn’t know if that was good or bad in this situation. She let out a sigh and settled back in her seat. 

Beck levered himself to his feet and brushed a speck of lint off of his shirt. Her eyes tracked the movement, lingering a moment too long on his backside. When he caught her looking he smirked. She didn’t even bother to blush, adjusting her hair as a distraction instead. “I’m going to go see what’s kept Jake. I’ll bring back some beverages and snacks.” He still sounded brusque and caged.

Heather watched him disappear as well, a frown creasing her forehead, but shrugged it off. If Beck wanted to be stupidly jealous, that was his business. He’d made it abundantly clear after the ceasefire that their relationship was platonic. She’d expected he’d be overjoyed with the end of the war but it’d been the opposite. Every day as the army started dismantling its encampment in Jericho, Beck had been harder and harder to connect with.

She felt abandoned, almost. They’d been in the proverbial trenches for so long with ridiculous hours, missed meals, patching up bullet wounds. When he’d started to take a step back without reason Heather had wanted to shake him. Remind him of the Fall of New Bern. Or the night he’d found out his family was dead. Or the moment when he’d been shot so full of holes she wasn’t sure he’d make it through the night. Through it all, they’d been a team.

“Hey. Don’t let him bother you; he’s just jealous.” Hawkins’ words ripped her out of her reflection. He was peeking out at her from beneath the arm he’d thrown over his eyes.

She cracked a sly grin. “I knew you were faking it. Some top secret recon?”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Only for the last fifteen minutes. I was up all night working on intel sources and-“ his voice dropped as a couple walked past. “And it looks like my target will be staying at the same hotel as us. It should be an easy task to get in and out of her room, especially during the reception tonight.”

She cocked her head. “Her? Who is the target?”

Hawkins finished stretching and slapped the armrests of his chair. “All in good time, Ambassador. For now, I would avoid any unnecessary conversations with attractive men. Wouldn’t want Beck having another fit when he’s supposed to be protecting you, now would we?”

With a mighty eye roll, Heather shot Hawkins an exasperated look. “You’ve missed the mark on that one, Hawkins. There’s nothing going on between Beck and I. I know you’re not dumb enough to think I wouldn’t want there to be, but there’s not.”

“Not yet.”

Heather rolled her eyes again so hard it hurt. She shifted her attention out the window, watching the fluffy clouds in the mid morning. There was something peaceful about flying so high and so fast, even if they were in a death trap shaped like a tin can.

Hawkins reached into his satchel and pulled out a stack of folded papers. “I know you did a lot of leg work on the who’s who for this week but I’ve got some extra intel I need you to have. With our secondary mission running parallel to your diplomatic endeavors, it’ll be good to know who you really might be getting into bed with, figuratively of course.” Hawkins really was getting cheeky in his old age and Heather wasn’t quite sure how to deal with it.

She ignored it instead, leaving him hanging for a long moment. The clouds really were beautiful; for a blissful moment she was no longer Atlas. Rather, she felt more weightless than she had in a very long time. “Heather. Take them. Read them.”

With a heavy sigh she grabbed the papers and shoved them in her briefcase. She’d look over them before the gala that night.

“Are you joining us tonight?” 

Hawkins opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a grousing Beck returning with drinks. He’d had a spot of trouble finding the galley and his previously irritated mood had turned foul. Heather rolled her eyes again, going back to her window staring. 

Jake eventually returned, right as the plane began its final descent into Canada. She kept her eyes on the horizon, remembering all of Beck’s descriptions from take off. 

Landing felt foreign, in an actual different country sense but almost a different timeline all together. If she thought hard enough she could imagine she was flying in to Chicago. Or Denver. Or any other place that had stood as a testament to human ingenuity back before she’d hit her 30’s. 

She took a deep, steadying breath before standing once the wheels were on the ground. Her resolve straightened her spine, one vertebrae at a time. There was work to do if she wanted to bring this life back to her fractured homeland.


	4. Chapter Three Prelude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather didn't fall in love with him all of a sudden. It was a very slow, meticulous process.

Jericho  
2008

“Beck!” A lone figure in the marching column came to a stop in front of her, the widest grin she’d ever seen gracing his face. She hadn’t known he was back, damn the man. And looking a little skinnier but no worse for wear. Across his chest he bore the insignia of Colonel and she gave a low whistle. “We’d heard you’d been promoted but look at you. Very fancy.”

If she squinted and tilted her head the right way she could have sworn he was blushing. “It’s good to be back.” God she had missed his quiet, steady cadence. “You look good Heather.”

His troops streamed behind him, the parade marching on despite their leader taking a short break.

Heather tucked her camera away and gave into impulse. Her arms wrapped him up tight and she took a deep breath. When Beck finally gave in to her demands for human contact, his hands were warm on her back. His breath tickled the hair at the side of her neck. 

She pulled back to give him a dazzling smile. “We’re really happy to have you back.” She let her arms fall but grabbed his hand on the way down. “I’m really happy you’re back.”

Heather couldn’t have said what made her say such a ridiculous thing, not under pain of torture or death, but it definitely darkened Beck’s ruddy complexion. He squeezed her fingers. “Yeah. Me too.”


	5. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has at least three pop culture references in it. At least three.

Calgary, Alberta  
July 3, 2012

Calgary was humming; a living and breathing creature. There were so many people, dozens to greet the plane and then more to help them with luggage and to their vehicle. Jericho had been given four staff members to guide them through customs and then out to their waiting limo. Heather tried to take in everything but couldn’t keep up.

She’d forgotten what a bustling city could sound like. 

The airport was a good 20 minute drive from their hotel downtown. Hawkins did his best to catch everyone up on the current political situation in Canada as they drove. Vancouver and Toronto had both gone through hell and back, with bombings so close. Vancouver had been overrun by refugees dying of radiation poisoning while Toronto had been cut off from most of their North American shipping industries with Detroit’s bombing. Ottawa was still the capital, but it’d also shrunk in size and most of the important dealings went through Calgary these days. Heather already knew all this and she suspected Beck did too. The bulk of her intel came through him, after all.

They pulled up in front of a pristine Marriott. The brand was familiar and it sent a pang through her heart as they walked through the lobby. She marveled at the high marble walls and traced her fingers over the decorative lights set into the walls of the elevators. Sighed as she walked the clean hallways to their rooms. This building was so far removed from anywhere she’d visited in years that it felt completely surreal to be somewhere where all the windows were still panes of glass instead of boards.

Hawkins stopped across the hall from her with Beck in the room next to her. They parted with an agreement to meet again before the reception that evening. If the lobby and the halls were nice, the room was bound to be out of a dream. She wasn’t disappointed as she pushed open the door to her room. There was so much sunlight and it was so clean and good lord. She even had a seating area with a separate bedroom farther back.

Like a kid on their first day of school, Heather giggled as she took everything in. She paused at the bathroom first and groaned audibly. A standing shower with a glass door and water pressure from heaven stood to her right. The sink was to her left with real soap and shampoo and conditioner and *lotion* sitting on the counter just waiting for her to use them. Jericho had had these things, off and on, for years but there was a casual abundance in this room that made her squeeze her eyes against tears. Six years ago, this would be rote. Now, it was like a whole new world.

A knock sounded somewhere from within the room and she frowned. It hadn’t come from the door she’d come in and it took a few seconds to find the other door, butted up against the room next to her. Her fingers reached out to touch the knob but she hesitated, the training that had saved her life more than once warning her that this wasn’t the best idea.

Another knock sounded and she almost jumped at the suddenness of it. Logically, it should be Beck on the other side. It was the wall she shared with him. Why there was a door between the two, who knew but it would have to be him on the other side.

Her training mostly agreed and she opened to door to the Colonel, with a smirk on his handsome face. “Looks like I got the servants’ quarters next to the fancy suite.”

She eyeballed his room over his shoulder. It’s more of the standard type room she’d been expecting. Bed, bathroom, TV. Not much else. She shrugged and gave him a winning grin. “Guess being Ambassador has some perks.”

“Indeed.” He didn’t make a move to enter, just leaned casually against the door jam. He had unbuttoned the top two buttons of his polo, giving her a tantalizing glimpse at his collarbones. She had seen him without a shirt on before but he’d been kind of bleeding all over Main Street in New Bern so she didn’t really like to bring that mental image up.

Casual Beck, looking the entire world like a man of leisure, was a completely different creature. One that was dangerous and hazardous to her health. She ripped her eyes away and glanced out the window. Beck noticed her gaze and subsequent reaction. He cleared his throat and straightened. “Hawkins gave me some cash for us at the airport. We can go shopping whenever you’d like.” Heather nodded absently, trying to calm her racing heart. She could see the Saddledome in the distance, no longer in use as a sports venue.

“Heather? Do you want to leave soon?”

She sighed; she was uncomfortable with every aspect of having him on this trip. From his reassuring behavior the night before at her house to his standoffish jealousy on the plane, she felt uneasy.

Unbalanced was a good word.

They had an unspoken agreement that she’d wrapped around herself like armor. Beck, looking like a completely different person in all this soft clean sunlight and his crisp, professional clothes, was ripping through that agreement as though it were tissue paper. At least he really did look like he could be her body guard. No one would give him a second glance. He cocked an expectant eyebrow, waiting for her response. She rewarded him with a small smile and a nod. “Let me unpack and take stock of what I brought then we can go.”

It sounded like a good idea to Beck and he left her to her task. The door shut softly behind him.

They walked south on 1st street. Both were quiet in their reflection, breaking the silence only to comment on all the differences between Jericho and Calgary. Other than the size and the bustle, they both noted technology that was way beyond anything they had at home. A woman had been poking at a cell phone, much larger and flatter than any they’d seen before. From several shops, pop songs they’d never heard blared and caught their attention. Even the cars seemed futuristic. 

Beck shrugged when Heather mentioned it. The US wasn’t the main manufacturer of vehicles, not for a long time. It’d make sense that progress would continue even as what was left of the US descended into the dark ages. She chewed over his words, nodding along. What happens when the world’s richest superpower collapses? The world kept moving, she supposed.

They hooked a right at the Stampede grounds, empty for at least another month and a half, and it didn’t take long to find the first shop of the day. Heather wasn’t much of a shopper and neither was Beck. He waited patiently at the door as she made hot laps of close to a dozen shops. The longer they walked, the busier the street was until they were practically on top of each other. Heather had developed a severe dislike of crowds over the last few years. Beck kept a discrete hand on her back, always watchful of potential danger.

After they’d been jostled together for the umpteenth time, she pointed to a small Mexican eatery off a side street. “Let’s grab some lunch. I’m famished.”

Beck greeted the hostess in flawless Spanish, which made Heather grin. He’d spoken it in front of her plenty but it never failed to bring a smile to her face. He carried such a crisp East Coast accent; heads turned when his Puerto Rican Spanish showed up. “Have we ever eaten Mexican food together? I can’t remember.”

He pondered her question as they seated themselves, handing her a menu. “I know I ate out plenty on our last real trip to Texas but I don’t remember if you ever came out with me. Was that the trip you ended up with food poisoning and spent the whole time in the embassy?”

She hated to think back on that weekend, certain at the time that she was going to die from the dodgy gas station food in Oklahoma. “That was the only time I went with you guys and I don’t think I left the bathroom until we were headed home.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile. 

The waitress approached to take their order. Heather didn’t recognize anything Beck ordered, but managed to get her own pleased smile when she ordered her chimichangas and horchata with her own Spanish. “You’ve been practicing?”

“Mexico has been good to Jericho. It’ll make my life easier if I can speak their language.”

“That it will. It sounded good, but go a little softer on your c’s. Your tongue should be more forward.” He demonstrated and she stared at his expression. Like teaching a child, patient and thorough. She’d always loved to watch him give talks with the school kids. She thanked him with a gracias, tongue forward, and they laughed.

Lunch was low-key and pleasant, as usual. They’d been working together so long that it was easy for the two of them to devolve into small talk. Today they talked about the last of the planting that they’d accomplished just a week ago. It’d been faster than the year before, with a reliable source of fuel for the tractors. No more manual labor to get the crops in and out of the ground. She would miss seeing him work shirtless in the fields, which was probably best for everyone in hindsight.

As she polished off the last of her beans she groaned and glanced outside. The street was still ridiculously crowded and she still needed a dress. “Maybe I’ll just skip the party tonight. Hawkins doesn’t really need me there, right?”

He frowned. “He does, actually. He needs you visible when he goes for the ASA intel.” She opened her mouth to protest but he held up a hand. “Don’t ask me; he’s been characteristically vague this whole trip.”

“That he has. Well, I suppose we better get back to it. I hate these stores though. I wasn’t a big fan of current fashion before and now I’m just flabbergasted. Did you see that dress that’s missing the sides? What’s up with that?”

He laughed at her exasperation. At the curb, he raised his hand and called a taxi. 

“Beck, we still need to find a dress-“

A cab squealed to a stop in front of them. He held the door open and gestured for her to climb in. “Trust me.”

Her side eye was hardcore but she was willing to play along, so long as she didn’t have to wade through this mess anymore. He directed the driver to take them to a mall, a little off the beaten path so they could avoid some crowds. 

“That’s . . . a really good idea. I wonder if they’ll have a Sears or a JC Penney. I can usually find something there; granted I was always a pretty dedicated Farm and Fleet shopper, but it is what it is.” Their laughter was interrupted by the driver.

“No American chains anymore, for obvious reasons. I suggest the Bay or Fields. I believe there’s also a Zellers at North Hill. Just relax folks, we’ll be there soon.”

Heather blinked at him then leaned over to whisper, “That’s the nicest taxi driver I’ve ever met. How very Canadian.”

Beck nudged her playfully back to her side of the cab. “Stereotypes, Heather? I’m surprised at you.”

“If the shoe fits.”

He chuckled and turned to watch the world pass by.

The mall was a little overwhelming but the driver’s suggestions were spot on. They were in the building for less than a half hour before she found two perfect dresses: a beautiful blue cocktail dress and a long, formal gown at Zeller’s. Beck waited patiently for her as she tried both on. She hadn’t worn anything fancy in so long that she stared at her reflection for a while in the cocktail dress. The dress was tight to the hips then flared gently just below the knees. The deep sapphire color complemented her eyes beautifully while the bare shoulders showed off the upper body that’d been toned through hard work rather than frequent gym visits. If she put her hair up and paired it with the black heels she’d brought along, she could look like any other socialite in the big city.

“Heather, are you doing okay?” 

She was snapped out of her revelry by Beck’s call and she started. “Yeah, just a second.” She was half tempted to go out and show him, see his eyes darken with that strange heat he’d show her every once in a while but then thought better of it. Let him see her later when she was all dolled up. She tried on the long gown, an ivory monstrosity with enough beading to almost double her weight, to make sure it’d fit. Both dresses would work just fine.

Beck had found pair of suits while she’d been changing, dark gray and blue fabric thrown carelessly over one arm. He paid for their purchases with a quirked eye brow for the price tag. She gave him a shrug and a smile, sweeping her long dress bag off the counter. He actually gave her a laugh as they headed back out to the taxi stand, and back to the hotel. 

The Heather that she’d seen in the changing room mirror wasn’t her. It was someone from a different dimension. Rich housewife. Powerbroker or a high end lawyer. A celebrity. She was from a reality that could have existed, once, before . . . well Before. Maybe if she’d gone into real estate back in Chicago like her mom had wanted. Her mom would have loved that ivory gown. It’s exactly what her mom would have picked out for her to walk down the aisle in.

Tears pricked at her eyes with the sudden sharpness of loss. Her mom had been in the ground for over a decade. She mentally reset the counter she kept in her head to zero as she wiped at a tear before it could drip down her cheek. She wasn’t very subtle and Beck caught the moment. 

“Heather? Are you okay?” He brushed the back of her hand to get her attention.

She turned to dismiss her sadness as a passing thought but the sight behind him out the window pulled her up short.

“Stop the cab!” Both men in the taxi startled at her yelp and she reached for the door handle. It was locked with the car still speeding along.

“Heather, what-“

She banged on the glass between them and the driver. “Stop here, please!” Her cry was desperate.

Beck tried to grab her when the vehicle slammed to a stop but she was out the door and running. She could hear Beck telling the cab to wait but her eyes were glued to the scene in front of her.

A large plaza was draped in red, white and blue. Old Glory was spread around in so many iterations her eyes didn’t know where to stop first. On bunting, circling a gazebo in the center. On pennants strung across the entry way. On little sticks, stuck all over the grass. And interspersed with all the flags were letters. Photos. Stuffed animals and candles burnt to their ends. A memorial. 

She took a shaky step forward and then another, approaching what had been a bench at one point. Now it was so covered with pleas for information that she couldn’t tell if it was concrete or wood. The photos were faded but she could still see the smiling faces of her fellow Americans.

Her heart wrenched at the sight. 

Beck slid a hand over her shoulder and she instinctively leaned into the touch. “There’s so many of them. _Of us_.”

The war was over but the loss was deep. Deep and desperate. Tears pricked at her eyes again and she rubbed at them. Beck pulled her a little tighter and she turned into his chest. This wasn’t a part of her struggles that she’d have ever considered. The many who had fled the States and were still looking for their families. She felt the weight of 320 million lost souls settle heavy on her heart and the tears started in earnest.

Beck held her through it all, rubbing a gentle hand over her back. She was simply overwhelmed and at a complete loss with how to process all this information. He let her cry her frustrations out and then, when she was done, leaned back to look down at her. His brown eyes were drowning in concern, for her. She suspected there was a healthy dose of concern and frustration for their situation in there too.

“War is never pretty. But it’s over, now. We can move on. The country can move on.”

With a jolt Heather realized that she wanted to kiss him. Not even romantically, because he’d made it abundantly clear he wasn’t ready for that kind of step. But just to say thank you. For being there for her, for always being there for her. For once, Beck seemed to have similar thoughts. He licked his lips, glancing at her own, and leaned down.

A flock of crows broke the moment; their loud squawks overhead startled Heather from her concentration. Beck let out a heavy sighed and stepped away. “We should get back to the hotel. I, for one, plan on making good use of that water pressure before tonight.”

She let out a sigh, still weighed down by the memorial and the ever present ghost of a country hovering just out of her peripherals. “No joke, I’ve been thinking about that in the back of my mind since we got here.”

He grinned, such a strange and unusual sight that she let out a laugh, before holding out his hand for her. It was an offer of more comfort, an opportunity to walk away from the horrors of the past and into the future together. She stared at his fingers for just a moment before slipping her hand into his.


	6. Chapter Four Prelude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beck's terrible, not-so-great, very bad day.

Jericho  
2010

The news came in with the morning mail and knocked the entire office sideways. 

The letter had appeared normal and nonchalant, another communique from Columbus that was addressed to the newly returned Colonel Edward Beck. Darcy hadn’t spared it a second glance as she’d dumped it into Beck’s inbox.

It was several hours later when a crash from Beck’s office had everyone turning to look. Beck paced, hands grasping at his very short hair. Through the windows they could tell he was in the middle of something heavy and heartbreaking.

Darcy immediately called Heather, who drove far too fast from the military installment to find the blinds drawn and the door locked.

He didn’t answer when she knocked gently and he didn’t answer when she threatened to pick the lock. She could hear his labored breaths through the cracks in the door and her heart broke with his. There was only one piece of information that could turn the stoic and solid Colonel into this emotional mess.

His wife and daughter had not made it.

She suggested Darcy give the office the morning off and settled in for a wait. Heather coaxed him for almost an hour, her back braced against the door and her knees drawn up. Gradually the noises quieted and she called out for him again, a soft, “Edward?”

The latch clicked and she scrambled to her feet.

The look in his eyes confirmed her suspicions; he had lost his family. He came willingly when she pulled him close and let her hold tight for a long time.


	7. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather is a pretty good diplomat. And a spy, if you subscribe to that Black Widow school of thought.

July 3, 2012 

First order of business when she got back to her hotel room ended up being the dossier Hawkins had given her on the plane. The file wasn’t particularly thick, maybe 20 sheets or so, but packed full of information of other attendees and backroom deals she probably didn’t know about.

And probably shouldn’t know about.

There was dirt on the ASA Ambassador and her assistant. The assistant was a Russian expat that had been used during the war to sew dissent against his former homeland. The Ambassador herself had been midlevel management in J & R’s Cleveland office a decade ago. Now she was representing an illegitimate government responsible for the deaths of millions. What an overachiever, Heather thought. She spiraled the papers to the bed, except for the last one. It was a faded photo taken during the early 90’s if the date on the bottom corner could be trusted. Heather’s eyes found Beck immediately, young and cocky surrounded by nineteen other men. They stood arm in arm, weapons stowed and nothing but joy on their faces. There was no writing besides the year. She flipped it over and found nothing there either. What a strange thing to leave her. 

She looked back at the picture, eyes tracing Beck’s face. He would have been in his early twenties. Maybe even his late teens. He looked like a child. He had none of the gruff leader in his face that he would become yet even with the smile she could see he was holding himself back. Ever the stoic soldier. She grunted in disgust. Hawkins was playing another game and she definitely didn’t appreciate being dragged along.

_Priorities_. She had priorities and she threw the photo down with the papers. That was a problem for future Heather. Present Heather had more pressing needs. She spent close to an hour in the bathroom, first in the shower where she’d groaned audibly when the hot water hit her. Then she’d wrapped her hair up like she had all the time in the world. The fresh razor waiting for her on the counter made her groan again. She hadn’t shaved her legs in . . . a while. She only nicked herself twice. 

Smoothed and cleaned, she slathered the rich hotel lotion on all available surfaces and took a well needed nap.

Hawkins knocked on her door at 6. He gave a low whistle when she answered, eyeing the dress and the borrowed makeup Emily had shoved into her hands the day before. “Good choice on the dress. Beck is going to lose his mind.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Where is he, by the way?”

“Not coming. Not yet. You and I have a pre-mission mission.” He gestured down the hall. Heather grabbed her shawl and purse before sparing Beck’s door a glance. It remained tightly closed and she turned her attention back to the secret agent. If they had stuff to do, they needed to do it.

He took her to the café in the lobby, letting her order and then led her to a small table by the front windows. “So, what’s up with the photo you left in that file for me?” She wasn’t as quiet as she should have been with her question.

Hawkins had a look, sometimes, that made you realize that you’d stepped in it. A cock of his head, a wincing smile, and those deep lines on his forehead that indicated his irritation. He was giving her that look right now and Heather sighed in disappointment. 

“How was your shopping trip?”

At least he wasn’t going to yell at her. “It was busy but good. We found an amazing Mexican joint for lunch and ended up at the mall on the north side of the city. I don’t remember the last time I saw so many people in one place at one time.” She thought about it for a second. “Maybe when the US came through during their post-war review. I dunno.” She chewed on a fry in thought. 

Hawkins listened to her intently, watching her face. It made her uncomfortable in a familiar way. He’d always been very good at setting people on edge when he wanted to. As quickly as he’d unsettled her, he leaned back with a smile. She relaxed reflexively. He was also very good at making people feel comfortable. “I have a job for you Heather. One that is of the utmost importance.”

She’d known he had a super sneaky plan in mind and she’d expected to be a part of it, somehow. “What do you need?”

“Tonight at the reception the Ambassador Chapman from the ASA is going to have an allergic reaction to some shellfish.” He held up a small device, no larger than an old pager. “I need you to get this into the pocket of her assistant. With the Ambassador in medical distress you should go completely unnoticed.”

He looked at her expectantly and she stared him down. She knew he’d have some sneaky plan and that she’d help but not like this. Her mind ran through all the possible scenarios. She could get caught planting something and end up in Canadian jail. That actually probably wouldn’t so bad. They’d probably always have hot water-

“Heather, did you hear me?”

She bit her bottom lip and glanced out the windows. The city moved on and she was struck by the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. “Why me? Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I won’t be there. I’ll be somewhere else.”

She stared at a woman walking her dog. The golden retriever was peeing on a mailbox. They hadn’t had a dog in Jericho since . . . well it had been a while. “Is it dangerous?”

“The device is not, no.”

That wasn’t what she was asking and they both knew it but Heather ignored his omission. There was a small risk to her, right? If she was careful she wouldn’t get caught. No one would know what she’d done. No one would get hurt. She knew better than to question the importance of her mission; Hawkins would never tell her the full truth. He wasn’t like Jake. He expected compliance not compromise. 

This was what they were here for. To get information. The woman and her dog disappeared around the corner, carrying on with their day.

Heather sighed as she turned back, her hand already reaching out to take the device. She slipped it into her purse and went back to eating her food. She was silent, not in the mood for small talk. The clock behind the check-in desk read 7:43 when the sharp click of dress shoes crossing the marble floor caught her attention.

She looked up from her iced tea, jaw dropping in shock. 

Beck had arrived, though she wouldn’t recognize him if she hadn’t been expecting the suit. The gray wool garment he’d picked up during their shopping trip clung to his shoulders in all the right ways. He’d left it open, revealing a crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone. Matching gray dress pants and black shoes completed the ensemble. His hair was gelled back again and Heather had the very distinct feeling he’d been going for dark and dangerous.

He’d certainly _nailed_ the look.

Hawkins noticed her distraction and turned to glance back at their compatriot. He smirked then slid his eyes back to her. He didn’t comment on her flabbergasted expression, finishing his drink instead. “Beck has been briefed on everyone’s job tonight. You just need to pay attention to Ambassador Chapman and make your move when the time is right.” Heather gave a vague nod, trying to snap herself out of her fugue.

Beck looked polished and refined with each sure step bringing him closer. Danger rolled off him in waves. He looked the part of a high paid security detail. And he was staring her down with his intense gaze. He kept the serious expression until he was only ten feet away and then broke into his relaxed grin.

She loved that grin. 

She was 97.82% sure she just loved _him_.

Hawkins rose when Beck paused next to the table. They shook hands and a meaningful nod before Hawkins disappeared. “Heather, you look . . . “ she met his eyes when he almost stuttered over the words. He was bashful but had a sweet look of home on his face.

It reminded her of the moments waiting when he’d first defected. That soft thanks he’d given her had filled her heart with life for the first time in months. She hadn’t wanted to let it affect her but it had. He’d crept into her life and her heart.

Fuck.

“You look beautiful. The dress was a wonderful choice.”

She blushed and thanked him. Her food was done, her escort was here, and it was probably time to start the subterfuge.

The venue was just up the street, close enough to walk although Beck had ordered them a cab. They got name tags upon entry. Heather’s had her full name and listed her as the ambassador to Jericho. Beck’s had just his first initial, last name, and said he was the military liaison for Jericho. Heather slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing like a donkey. He gave her a cool look as he pinned the tag on then adjusted his coat. “That’s . . . ambitious. Are you trying to be sneaky?” He colored at her words which only made her laugh harder. “Beck, you’re a war hero. Someone’s going to recognize you.”

He leaned in close enough for her to catch a whiff of his cologne. Her chest tightened. “I’m not widely photographed and never in civvies. I doubt anyone will make the connection.”

“You do look-,” she took a quick breath, trying to calm her laughter. “You look different. Good different, though. Like-“ now she was struggling to not sound foolish. She was supposed to be good at this talking thing. “Never mind. Let’s head in.”

The room was gloriously appointed, gilt fixtures and so much light it almost hurt her eyes. From the intricately laid marble tile to the soaring chandelier, Heather was reminded that this was probably the most important trip of her life. Regardless of how delicious Beck looked, and how elegant she felt, and how insane it was that she was here at all, this was a sort of watershed moment. She squared her shoulders and snagged a glass of champagne off a passing tray. Heather may not have ever expected to end up in a place like this doing what she was but she’d be damned if she didn’t rock it.

They were set upon almost immediately by the Texan envoy. Mark pulled her into a conversation with a few of his coworkers talking about all the positives they saw in Canada and how excited they were to start trade negotiations early the next morning. She’d be included in some of those meetings but not all of them. 

Beck remained ten feet behind her the entire time, hands clasped and watching. She felt comfortable with him there, even in the room that felt too full of people. She knew he’d keep her safe, no matter what.

The Canadian delegation was next, ensure she had everything she needed. The Ambassador guided her through the room to the Canadian Prime Minister, a stoic looking woman that reminded her of Churchill. “Prime Minister Rochefort, it’s a pleasure.”

Rochefort gave her a firm handshake and a tight smile, something almost mischievous now flittering around the edges of her eyes. “Ambassador Lisinski. A pleasure as well. We were sad to learn your major would not be joining you but we are happy to have you in his place. From what I’ve heard you’re the brains behind your technical resurgence anyway.” She smiled kindly but Heather was still stuck.

“I’m sorry, you said Major?” She frowned, thinking perhaps the PM didn’t know Beck had been promoted. Heather was sort of new at this international politics thing but understanding the key players in Jericho should have been at the top of the PM’s to-do list before this weekend. She snuck a look behind her to make sure Beck hadn’t caught the slip up then frowned. Her shadow was nowhere to be found.

Rochefort gave a laugh. “Ah, yes. My apologies. Your Mayor. Anderson.”

Heather relaxed by a fraction and cracked a smile. “Indeed. Mayor Anderson was sad to have missed the summit but he is not well enough to travel.”

“Nothing serious I hope?” There was a question buried beneath the surface there. Heather’s grip on her champagne glass tightened fractionally and a niggling warning wormed its way into the back of her mind.

She did what she always did best. Grin and carry on. “Oh! No, nothing serious. He wasn’t up to date with his medical stuff and wasn’t allowed to travel on doctor’s orders. You’ll have to deal with me and my constant technical questioning instead.” Her grin was blinding.

The PM almost tittered, finding her . . . delightful? Perhaps just indulging her. Heather couldn’t tell and she didn’t trust the other woman. Rochefort’s security staff stepped forward at the same moment she felt a hand at her elbow. Beck, once again standing close. “Ah, and your military . . . liaison? You are Colonel Beck, yes?” 

Heather felt a shiver run down her spine and straightened. Beck at her elbow was their signal that things were about to happen. “Yes, this is the Colonel. We will be happy to complete more extended introductions in a moment. I’m afraid I must step away, if you’ll excuse me Prime Minister.” 

The older woman gave her a gracious smile and another hand shake. She’d be dealing with Rochefort extensively over the next few days and even though Heather didn’t have a great feeling about the other woman she couldn’t appear rude or disingenuous.

When they were clear of the group she whirled on Beck. “Where did you go? Is it time? Was it just me or did the PM seem kind of condescending?”

One dark eyebrow almost hit his hairline at her rapid fire questions and he guided her to a secluded corner. “I ran into an old friend, don’t worry about it. It’s not quite time but we’re close. I think the PM was humoring you. Definitely a touch condescending but I wouldn’t let it bother you. We kind of want you to look a little . . . naïve this weekend so that works out well.”

Naïve? She hadn’t gotten that message. How many different games was Hawkins playing? She dug around in her clutch for a second, verifying the device was still there before fishing out her lipstick. Beck watched her like a hawk, his eyes following the movement of the tube. “What? Did I get some on my teeth?”

He grunted in response and turned away to scan the room. Her gaze caught on the strength of his neck. Jesus, what a thing to focus on. But, in that shirt with the jacket and those arms. She should have gotten him into a suit ages ago.

“Alright, that’s the signal. Chapman is over by the hour d’oeuvres now. Just . . . be non-distinct.”

She couldn’t see any obvious signal when she glanced at her target. It was a little infuriating that there was so much going on that she hadn’t been told about. Almost like they expected her to fuck up if she knew too much. She just rolled her eyes at Beck and headed to the table, her hair flip epic. Heather paused at several spots, talking to a few people as Hawkins had instructed. She looked back once, just to make sure Beck was with her. 

He was, steady as ever, only a few steps away.

She slid next to the Ambassador’s assistant and waited. 

Seconds passed. Then a minute. Then another minute. She shifted from foot to foot as anxiety built a home in the back of her throat. She glanced at Beck again and frowned. He was gone. Her head whipped around, looking frantically but still telling herself to take it easy. She was where she needed to be. She just needed some patience. 

Finally, what an awful thing to think, Ambassador Chapman doubled over as she struggled to breathe. Heather’s hand slipped into her purse then right into the assistant’s pocket. Once the device had been deposited, she took a step back and gasped as though in shock. She’d been going over the scenario since she’d agreed to the plan and he played the situation perfectly. Her call for a doctor got the attention of most of the room.

Security had the ambassador carted away within minutes. The assistant trailed behind and Heather’s heart beat furiously in her chest. She wasn’t expecting to find subterfuge this exhilarating yet she could feel energy thrumming through her entire body. She desperately hoped Chapman would be just fine and that Heather would be released from any more ridiculous tasks like this one.

“Good job, secret agent woman.” Beck had appeared at her back once more and leaned close, lips almost brushing her ear. An unconscious shiver went down the spine at the contact and at his words. She whipped her head up to stare up at him. A mischievous smile played on his lips.

With the adrenaline spiking through her, she felt reckless. It reminded her of those late night forays into the field she’d gotten particularly good at late in the war. It heightened all of her senses and she could almost feel Beck’s own racing heartbeat. When his tongue peeked out to wet his lips she zeroed in on the motion and took a quick breath. He was clearly trying to kill her.

Beck straightened as Mark approached. Heather immediately missed his presence in her space and she almost took a step closer to him. She wanted to climb inside that damn suit of his and explore what she knew he was hiding underneath.

“Ambassador Lisinski! I was wondering if I could borrow you for a few moments. I’d like to introduce you to your Mexican counterpart.” Mark didn’t seem to register her blown out expression. When she stared at Mark dumbly, Beck gave her a gentle push at the small of her back. Her feet took a second to start working before she followed the Texan off into the crowd.

Fifteen minutes. It took her a solid fifteen minutes to get her heart to settle and pay attention to what was going on around her. She was standing with a group of American suits, talking windmill specifics. They’d all admitted to using the plans she’d released several months ago and had all made improvements on her design.

This comforted her, knowing that the struggles Jericho had endured could be turned into good that would help right the world, if even a little. She was able to crack a grin, no longer a ball of energy, when a woman from Connecticut asked what she would do in locations without strong winds. It was the impetus for her to start rambling on about her next plan: solar.

Connecticut woman, whose name tag read Jennifer, monopolized her time for a solid forty minutes. They shared several drinks and more than a handful of ideas. She liked Jennifer; she had a good head on her shoulders and unlike many of their male cohort seemed to focus on future applications of technology rather than immediate concerns.

“I gotta tell ya, Heather. It’s amazing to find someone with your skill set in Kansas of all places.”

She gave a kind smile. “Jericho. We’re not really Kansas anymore.”

“Of course, Jericho. Regardless, I’ve been living with this belief that anything west of the Blue Line fell into ruin after the bombs. Lord knows we struggled out east but we weren’t contending with three governments and the road bandits.” Jennifer shivered and took another drink.

Heather considered her point. “There were many things that made life difficult for a long time. But, the war was fought on your side, too. Beck - sorry Colonel Beck- was gone for over a year fighting on the eastern front.” Those were dark days and she never liked to think about them too hard. 

The comment lit up the other woman’s expression. “Oh, yes! How could I have forgotten about your standing army? To be honest though, we never heard anything about that during the war. I think it wasn’t until the news broad casts a few months ago that any of us realized there were entire battalions that had joined our cause. It’s kind of romantic, isn’t it?” She was starting to like Jennifer less. War was many things, but romantic? Not so much.

“I mean- from what I’ve read and seen it was a terrible choice to turn their backs on their country. Or, at least, the country they thought they were a part of. Turn their backs and reclaim their American heritage. That’s romantic, right?”

Heather’s eyes settled on Beck. He’d taken up residence in a far corner, just watching the room. He noticed her look quickly. He gave her a soft smile before he tilted his head in question. Was she alright? Did she need anything? She shook her head just a bit. She was fine.

Beck had turned his back on the only chain of command he had. For what? For her. He’d done it for her. And for God and country. The real country. The afternoon she’d dragged him to safety he’d admitted as much to her in a pain-fueled haze.

Dammit. Jennifer wasn’t wrong; it was kind of romantic.

“Hello, Heather? Did I lose you?” Jennifer’s eyes followed hers and then chuckled. “Also, might I point out that the security details are a hell of a lot hotter in Jericho than they are at home. Well, they would be if I warranted a security detail. But your guy, he’s gorgeous.” Heather liked Jennifer again.

Her heart was losing its battle against the ineffable draw of Edward Beck and Heather straightened. The champagne was not helping and this conversation was no longer work-related. “He’s a good body guard. And he looks bored to death. I think I’m going to take pity on him and duck out.”

Jennifer nodded. “Early days all weekend, that’s for sure. I think I’ll be seeing you around 10 tomorrow? The panel on electric system recovery?”

Heather gave her a distracted nod, still watching Beck, but did thank her for the company. It’d been a hot minute since she’d talked with a woman who didn’t live within five miles of herself. 

The ball room was loud as she crossed the floor, delegates and politicians a little sauced and let loose after too many years at war, literal war, with one another. It was kind of funny to her that everyone could come back together like this when so many had lost everything. Beck’s eyes tracked her movements as she wound her way through the crowd. She took note of his glances when he thought he was being surreptitious, scanning her body and taking in the way she looked. It couldn’t have meant anything but she sped up all the same.

His smile was comforting when she came to a stop in front of him. “I’m getting tired; it’s been a long day and tomorrow will be longer.”

He nodded and straightened. “At your leisure, Ambassador.” He really wasn’t half bad at this body guard thing. They made it out of the room without being stopped yet Heather pulled up short as they entered the hallway. A group of men, clearly private security from their dress and the glaring logo for Ravenwood, were waiting on the far wall. Beck growled low in his throat. 

Jericho had gone toe to toe with Ravenwood so many times, first before Beck and the army and then after. Before they’d been a deadly nuisance that Jericho had held back. After Beck, and after Bonnie, they’d become the proverbial thorn in Jericho’s side. Jericho and its standing army had given as good as they got, resulting in countless deaths on both sides. There was bad blood there that ran deep for all parties.

While she didn’t expect the run of the mill politician at this shindig to recognize them, Ravenwood agents probably would. Beck ducked his head and turned her towards the exit only to curse once more. Heather noted a second group approaching from where they needed to go.

He sighed then pulled her tighter. “Lean into me. When I tell you, laugh at me like I’ve just said something stupid. But not too much.” She did as he asked, their pace uneasy. Heather could feel Beck maneuvering her a little more than he needed to, almost as though she were drunk. They passed the first group without incident. As they approached the second she glanced at them out of the corner of her eye and almost froze on the spot.

One of the four Ravenwood agents looked extremely familiar, as though she’d seen him before. Her eyes lingered too long and he caught her staring. She felt like he’d had a beard. When he’d been in Jericho and had been one of the posse that had killed Bonnie Richmond. Her blood ran cold at the memory and she looked at Beck quickly. He hadn’t seemed to notice. The man was looking at Beck now, a crease furrowing his brow. She could see the mental double take.

Fuck.

“Beck, I don’t feel well.” She put every ounce of urgency she could in the words, willing him to give her even a glance. He’d be able to see the panic on her face with just one look.

“We can’t stop Heather. We have to keep moving.”

Once upon a time he’d growled those words at her as he’d helped her limp through some dark and dangerous woods, bleeding all over the forest.

Now, at this moment, she needed to get him to stop and focus on her, needed him to turn away from the approaching agents. “Beck-“ He pulled her tighter and didn’t slow. The agent was watching more intently than she liked. “Fuck it.”

Heather surprised herself with her strength as she pushed against Beck’s grip. He definitely hadn’t expected that and went stumbling with her. She twisted, slamming herself against the wall with Beck’s back to the Ravenwood agents. His eyes widened. “Heather- what?”

“Kiss me. Now.” She didn’t give him a chance to question her again. Her fingers buried deep in his hair and pulled his mouth none too gently down to her own. He was still under her ministrations and she mentally willed him to respond. This ruse wouldn’t work if she appeared to be molesting him in public. 

She _was_ molesting him in public; she just needed people to think it was consensual. Somewhere between her rising up on her toes for easier access and one of her hands pushing under his jacket he must have figured out the ruse. Heather heard the small growl she elicited from him moments before he crushed her to his chest. A hand wrapped itself around the nape of her neck and she could feel his other hand grasping at the fabric of the cocktail dress. Lips opened to her own and then Heather was the one gasping.

She lost track of time, all her energy focused on the feel of him and the taste of him on her mouth. Damn he was a good kisser. And those fingers . . . she was going to have to burn this dress because he was getting fingerprints on every inch of it. 

A voice clearing broke them up. Heather attempted to appear suitably guilty when she glanced over Beck’s shoulder to find a security guard looking at them as though they were wayward children. A fully normal, not Ravenwood, security guard. She relaxed infinitesimally as she registered the danger had passed. “Sorry, sorry. We’ll go.”

Beck looked shell shocked. She’d managed to displace one lapel as she’d rubbed against him and he had lipstick smeared on his face. She wiped at it with a thumb and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I-“

He gave her a curt shake of her head and grabbed her hand. They were still kind of in enemy territory. She glanced back as he led them from the hall. There were a few people milling around outside the door to the reception but it was fairly quiet. Hopefully no one else had seen them. Hopefully-

Beck dragged her into the street, almost throwing her into the first available taxi. “We’re in the clear, Beck. Relax.” She settled on the seat and then gave him a good once-over.

He was livid. The vein on the side of his head pulsed in time with her own erratic heartbeat. He seemed to be turning a ridiculous shade of red as he attempted to keep himself in check. She’d seen him this angry exactly twice before. The first had been when she’d admitted to stealing from him. The second had been after the Fall of New Bern.

This time she was baffled. What could he possibly be angry about? “Beck-“

“No. Not here.” His curt reply cut her deeper than she expected and she sat back, chastened. Over the years she’d learned that if Beck didn’t want to talk about something she wouldn’t be able to drag it out of him until he was ready. With the way his leg was bouncing and his fists were clenching and unclenching, she suspected they’d be talking as soon as they got back to their rooms.

She’d missed a smudge of lipstick, right at the corner of his mouth. She didn’t dare mention it.

Beck had been a hell of a kisser and she’d felt the hard muscles of a well-maintained body under her. Holy shit she’d made out with Beck. And it had been just as wonderful as she’d always expected.

Was that what was setting him off now? They’d had clear boundaries, albeit unspoken, and she’d crossed at least two. Her heart sank at the thought. Kissing her had obviously been miserable for him even as it was the single greatest personal contact she’d had in almost five years. She should have asked. She should have-

“Let’s go.” His voice was gruff and it sent tentacles of ice down the back of her neck. He had every right to be angry but Jesus she was just trying to help. If that agent had recognized them they’d could have been in trouble. She had been doing her job. He shouldn’t be so harsh with her. 

She didn’t wait for Beck to pay the driver, just strode through the lobby like a woman on a mission. And that mission was not being in public anymore while her roller coaster emotions were making her doubt every single little thing. Beck almost missed the elevator altogether and he gave her a glare. She hadn’t kept it waiting for him.

She needed to be alone. Out of this dress and without all this make-up. She clearly couldn’t work well with him and she was done parading around like she was able. “Heather-“

She gave him an icy stare, not melting one inch in front of his burning fury. She could at least do this, go toe to toe with Colonel Edward Beck. She’d had years of practice.

Their hotel doors felt like a mile away while she stalked to halls. Digging the key out of her purse she swiftly let herself in and shut Beck out. 

Alone. She needed to be alone and to be out of this damn dress. Frantic fingers grabbed at the zipper up her back. “Woah. Hold on a second before you get naked.”

Jake’s voice jerked her back to her surroundings and she let out an undignified squawk. He was sitting on her sofa, Hawkins lounging next to him. “What the ACTUAL fuck, Jake Green?”

Hawkins laughed. Jake gave her a wry smile. And the door connecting her room with Beck’s was kicked in with a loud, deafening crash.

Heather let out another scream at the sound and almost jumped a mile. Hawkins was up instantly with a gun pointed at Beck who also had his weapon drawn. Several tense seconds passed before Hawkins relaxed. The Colonel’s aim never wavered. “I heard a scream. Heather, are you okay?” She pressed a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart and could have cried from the second heavy adrenalin dump of the night. 

“Relax Beck. Everything is fine. Now, put that gun away. We need to debrief both of you.”

Beck was less than amused as he holstered his gun at the small of his back. He crossed to Heather and cupped her elbow once more. He needed to stop doing that. She was still irritated by his anger and now she’d almost had a heart attack. She pulled away and took the chair across from the couch.

All three watched Beck as his panic slid into anger once more. He waited a beat before joining them. Well, at least someone else could be the focus of that fury, she thought viciously. “Everything went according to plan, so that’s the good news.”

They settled, recounting their evenings. Or, Beck and Heather recounted their evenings. Jake and Hawkins didn’t mention what they’d been up to at all. Hawkins seemed pleased when she discussed the conversations she’d had. Heather let the tale drew to an end, neglecting to mention the last minutes before they left the reception hall. Hawkins and Jake didn’t need to know she’d kissed Beck. Or that he’d kissed her back.

They agreed to meet up again in the morning, once more in Heather’s room. Jake lingered for a second, hand grazing the outside of her arm. “You looked upset when you came in. Are you sure everything went okay? Beck didn’t . . . do anything did he?” His gaze was steady but calculating. Jake was very good at reading her sometimes.

She shook her head. “No, just ready to get out of this getup and enjoy some quiet. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a room with that many people, you know?”

He didn’t appear particularly convinced by her answer but let it go. He let his hand fall to hers, giving her fingers a quick squeeze before following Hawkins out the door. She shut them out, locking up behind them, then turned to find Beck still in her room. She looked first to the busted door between their rooms and then back to him. He was staring out the window pensively. His shoulders were drawn up and she could see the frown creasing his forehead in his reflection in the window. She wanted him to go away, desperately, at that moment. She’d had too much excitement for one night and she really did want to get out of the dress. It was gorgeous but she felt far too exposed in it.

The memory of his hands gliding over the fabric, over her body, caught her breath in her throat. And then the anger of his reaction followed.

“I’m tired Beck.” She was proud she kept the waiver out of her voice; it definitely did not reflect the turmoil boiling inside her. She couldn’t help the rambling though. “I’m sure the door will shut enough to give us privacy for the night. I’ll call someone in the morning to fix it while we’re in meetings-“

“You kissed me.” His own voice was anything but controlled. He sounded barely retrained and she took a step back. “You kissed me, Heather.” His chin dropped to his chest and she remained motionless. She hadn’t expected him to just throw it out there like that. He’d never been direct about personal stuff. Sometimes it felt like pulling teeth to get him to admit anything that wasn’t related to work.

When he turned her breath caught again. He didn’t look angry anymore.

He looked heartbroken.

“Why did you kiss me?”

There were a whole host of things she wanted to say. She desperately wanted to tell him that she’d recognized someone from Ravenwood: that they’d been in more danger than he realized. That if he’d listened to her he could have stepped to the side with her for just a moment and allowed the group to pass. But he hadn’t listened and she’d had to take matters into her own hands.

That was the real, true reason. The more basic and primal reason was that she’d kissed him because she’d been high on the thrill of the night and he had looked amazing. Still looked amazing, despite the pain on his face and the defeated slump of his shoulders.

“I was trying to keep Ravenwood from looking at you. It seemed like the best course of action.” Keep it short and simple, Heather, she thought. 

Beck shook his head ruefully, never taking his eyes off her face. “The best course of action? Really?”

She shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “People are uncomfortable with public displays of affection.”

He took a menacing step forward and then another. “And what about you? Aren’t you against all displays of affection, public or otherwise? I mean, I’ve been pretty good about keeping my hands to myself at all times with you. Wasn’t that our agreement?”

Heather felt her jaw drop at his insistent questions. “Keeping your hands off me? Beck, you made it abundantly clear that you’d rather not have your hands on me, ever. Now I’m sorry that I kissed you and upset you but I panicked and we needed to keep them walking.” 

Her chest heaved, more from the insinuation that somehow she’d been the one to tell Beck to back off. She had never even once suggested that she didn’t want him with her at all times. In fact, she distinctly remembered laying herself out for him, quite explicitly, and he’d shot her down so spectacularly that she’d shuttered her heart away for years.

Years.

Beck shook his head once more and buried his hands in his pockets. With one last heavy look, he turned and went back to his own room. Heather was left grasping at his words and his insinuations. He managed to get the door as closed as it was going to be and yet she still stared after him.

“What the actual fuck?”


	8. Chapter Five Prelude

Jericho  
2011

“What are you going to do when this is all over?” The lazy flicker of light from her fireplace made Heather whimsical. The two blankets she was buried under and the glasses of mulled wine hadn’t hurt either.

Beck was without a blanket (she always accused him of being cold blooded) but had downed four glasses to her two. His head dipped when he turned to look at her. “This? Which this? The power outage or the week that never seems to end?” He had that silly quirk on his face, making him look much younger and less burdened by the weight of the world.

She shoved at the side of his leg with her toes. “You know which this. The war. What are you going to do when the war is over?”

Beck looked back to the fireplace and she watched his concerns slide back onto his visage. “I’m . . . not really sure. My brother is still alive, down in Alabama, but we weren’t close Before. With Sofie and Maria gone, I don’t really have any place I have to be. Probably wherever the army sends me.” He sighed and slid further into the couch.

He looked so forlorn and Heather’s heart broke all over for him. 

Beck was such a constant for her; he never wavered when his conviction was true. He never lost sight of his mission, even when bleeding from gunshot wounds. And he never, ever, quit. Beck didn’t resign himself to anything. He faced every challenge and obstacle in his way head on.

It was very close to the top of the list she had titled, “Reasons Why Heather Lisinksi Is Desperately In Love With Edward Beck”.

“You should stay.” The words bubbled up from her heart but she sure wasn’t expecting them to come out. It’d been less than a year since he’d gotten confirmation about his family’s passing. She shouldn’t suggest that he try to make a new one. Not now. Not when they were actually enjoying a quiet evening.

“Stay?” He sounded almost whimsical.

She back tracked immediately, sitting up a little straighter. “I mean, well. We like you enough here; we’re going to be in your debt forever and I know that house you’re in certainly doesn’t have anyone else coming back to it.”

He watched her fumble. She couldn’t get her mouth to stop moving. “I know the town would be happy to have you. I would be happy to have you.” She meant that, with every fiber of her being. She’d spent more time than could ever be considered healthy imagining what life with Edward Beck would be like. Quiet but intense. He’d put everything he had into her, just like he did with his work. He was probably a firecracker in the sack.

“You’d be happy? Really?” 

She really started to backtrack. “I mean, you’re a good guy. The town would absolutely be better off with you in it. We’d find something for you to do.”

“I would have to find another profession. That doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. I feel like I’m just about done with war.” He looked wistful. And sad.

She gulped back the swell of affection that was surely about to cross her face. “And when the time was right you could settle and find another family. You shouldn’t be alone.”

Now he looked surprised that she’d suggested the very thing she was just telling herself not to discuss. “I’m never alone when I’m with you, Heather. Life wouldn’t be right without you in it.”

Heather was drowning in those eyes. In the way he was speaking with such quiet determination. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be front row at your wedding.”

Beck contemplated her for another moment before nodding and looking back to the fire. “Jericho is rather nice in the summer. When bombs aren’t falling.” It was an olive branch, and easy segue into an easier topic.

“You haven’t even been to the swimming hole yet. Just you wait.” That got a small chuckle out of Beck and she relaxed down into the blankets. He dropped a hand to her foot, still pressed against his leg and she sighed. This was nice.


	9. Chapter Five

July 4th, 2012

Her morning briefing was much earlier than she’d have liked. 6 am found her sitting on her couch with a cup of coffee and two men across from her. Jake looked about as good as she felt, rumpled and still mostly asleep. Hawkins was almost bouncing and she hated him a bit for that. She frowned when Hawkins started in on her work for the day and she interrupted him before he got too far ahead.

“Should we wait for . . . you know? My protection?” She tilted her head towards the busted door separating her room from Beck’s. The door was 95% shut and she hadn’t heard a peep from him the whole thirty minutes she’d been awake.

Hawkins didn’t spare it a glance. “He’s gone already for the day. Now, back to your meetings-“ Heather frowned and looked back to the door as Hawkins continued. Where the hell was Beck at way-too-early-o’clock? And why hadn’t he told her he was leaving? She stewed in these questions as Hawkins laid out her plans.

Well, laid out what he needed her to do for him during the meetings that she herself had planned and set up. There were a handful of important individuals he wanted herself to endear herself to, three topics of discussions that she needed to be very concise about, and a meeting that afternoon with the Mexican delegation Hawkins himself would be attending.

“As long as you let Jake keep track of your time you should be fine for the day. Now, I’m going to go shower and run down a contact. Call me if you have any issues.” Hawkins stood but Heather didn’t move.

“What’s Jake going to be doing with me? Why do I need two bodyguards?”

The man in question gave her questioning look while Hawkins scoffed. “Heather, this is very important. Please tell me you listened to everything I just said.”

“Of course I did. I just missed the part where I need both Beck and Jake with me.”

There it was again, that look that made her feel like she was a wee child being scolded for believing in ghost stories. Hawkins didn’t even bother responding. He gave Jake a pointed look and left the two friends alone. Heather was still gaping, now completely at a loss. “What? What did I miss?”

“Beck has some personal issues he needs to sort out today. That’s why I’ll be with you. That was the second thing that Hawkins mentioned.”

Heather stared at him blankly. She couldn’t have missed something like that but Jake was now also looking at her like she was child. Fuck. Beck being gone for personal issues sure sounded like she was the problem. “Did he tell you? What happened last night, or what? I mean, it wasn’t planned at all and it won’t happen again.”

Jake let out a small ha! of victory. “I knew something was going on. What’d he do to you? I swear I’ll gut him if he hurt you.” Green went full speed from gloating to threatening quite easily.

She groaned at her own stupidity. “He didn’t tell you. Dammit.”

“Heather, what happened? It couldn’t have been that bad. You were both in one piece when you got back.”

She definitely didn’t want to talk to Jake about this but he wouldn’t let it rest. “I kissed him.”

“You KISSED him!? Heather-“

“I KISSED him to distract the four Ravenwood assholes, one of whom was in Jericho, on the Richmond Farm that day, so they wouldn’t recognize us and cause us all a world of trouble. It was dumb to bring him along in the first place and even dumber to expect him to pass under the radar.”

It really had been a stupid plan. God, this was a nightmare.

It made Jake cackle. “What, were you trying to pull that scene from the Saint where they make out in a tunnel and hope the soldiers don’t notice the two random people who should not be there?” At her petulant stare he laughed harder. “Holy crap Heather, you are ridiculous.”

“Hey! It worked. But he got angry about it and then when you guys left last night he got mad again.” She dropped her chin to her chest, weighed down by the memory. 

Jake snagged her fingers and gave them a squeeze. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? Heather?”

She shook her head, looking away from her friend. “No, he didn’t hurt me. He just-“ Dammit. Heather could feel the tell-tale prickle of tears at the back of her eyes. Just great. 6:45 in the morning and she was about to lose her shit in front of Jake.

Thankfully Green had plenty of practice with the unusual outbursts. He pulled her close and hugged her for all he was worth. Twenty full seconds while she held on and calmed herself down. “I can’t believe you kissed him. I thought you two were a non-issue. Like, a never-going-to-happen thing.”

She nodded into his shoulder miserably. “That was the general consensus. We had a . . . talk the day the war ended and he was pretty clear that he didn’t want anything to do with me that way and then I go and kiss him. I’m a shitty friend.”

“You’re not a shitty friend. You were trying to keep the two of you safe.” Jake was a good person. Once upon a time she’d kissed him too and they’d turned out okay. Maybe it would work out okay with Beck too. She took a deep breath to steady herself then pushed him back.

“Well. Now that this excitement is done I should probably get ready. I can’t believe I have to go and talk about corn subsidies at 7:30 in the morning.” 

Corn subsidies. Really. 

Jake’s presence at her side through her morning meetings was a blessing and a curse. He was well received by every delegation except the ASA and more than once Heather had to deflect irrelevant questions back to the matter at hand. When her 10 AM rolled around she had a folder full of notes and a headache that was settling in for the long run.

Jennifer waylaid her as soon as she walked into the conference room, a giant grin on her face. “Heather! You didn’t tell me you knew Jake Green.” The other woman was trying to be subtle. She lacked the ability entirely and Jake almost did a 180 to get away. Heather clamped a hand around his wrist and kept him close. 

“Everyone knows everyone in Jericho. Jake, this is Jennifer. She was a professor at MIT and now works for the renewable energy division at the US DoD. Perhaps you could talk to her about those solar panels we’re interested in building.”

Jake shot her a mean glare and she gave him a winning smile in response. Her eyes circled the room, taking stock of the other participants. She’d been in meetings with most of them throughout the morning but there were a couple of military types off in the corner. Her grin froze on her face as she recognized Colonel Hoffman. The man was still in standard issue fatigues, the wrong flag still proudly displayed on his arm. 

From what Beck had told her, Hoffman hadn’t been swayed by the evidence of the ASA’s treachery because he’d already known when Beck had sent out feelers to Fort Heyward. Hoffman had known the new government had been responsible for the bombs and had still supported it. 

Her dealings with the man when she’d been trying desperately to get back to Jericho had all been pleasant. He’d been helpful and polite. It hadn’t gelled with the idea that he could have supported the ASA’s actions.

Jake sputtered next to her, unsure of how to respond to one of Jennifer’s questions. He was saved by the panel’s mediator calling the group to order. They took their seats, thankfully far from Hoffman, and the information exchange of digital systems began.

Heather was able to add a marginal amount to the discussion. She wasn’t here to share her own information as much as she was to glean where everyone else was in the recovery of systems post EMP. Her goal was to get Jericho back on a grid of any kind with working communication devices in the next three months. A lot of that would be replacement of hardware throughout the city and a steady supply of devices.

At the end of their hour discussion the group had established the beginnings of trade deals for phones, transformers, and maintenance equipment. Jericho was in a comfortable place, so centrally located, and Heather suspected she wouldn’t have any issues completing the deals with Mexico and Canada.

She’d largely been able to avoid thinking of Hoffman during the meeting but he made a beeline for her as soon as the group made it to the hallway. Heather felt frozen to the spot, watching the man cross the room. She tried to grab onto Jake again but he’d stepped away to ask the Canadian Foreign Minister something.

“Ambassador Lisinksi. It’s a pleasure to see you again. I was relieved when we heard you made it through the war unscathed.”

Her eyebrows hit her bangs at his words. Well that was unexpected. “Hello Colonel. I appreciate your words even if I’m a little surprised. I didn’t think you’d even remember me.”

He gave her what she knew was a rare smile. “You were one of the first civilians my battalions had a chance to help. The whole camp was pulling for you during your illness and knowing you’d made it through was a huge morale booster.” 

That made no sense to her. This man’s battalions had directly attacked Jericho more than once during the war. Beck had suspected they’d run afoul of them at least a half dozen times when they’d been in the field. What was Hoffman going on about?

She was about to politely excuse herself when Hoffman’s gaze was caught by something over her shoulder. “Ah, and here’s your guardian angel now. I wondered if we’d be seeing him this weekend.”

Guardian angel? She turned to glance behind her and her breath caught in her throat.

Beck.

Beck in full military glory, the deep blue of his class ‘A’s setting off the fierce protection in his brown eyes. He had his sights set on Heather, the crowd parting as he approached. She found herself giving him another slow once-over, just like she had the night before.

Was there an outfit that man didn’t rock?

Probably not.

Her eyes caught on the lapels of his uniform and she frowned when Beck finally stopped next to her. His collar was suspiciously absent of insignia. She’d seen enough military uniforms wandering around to know he should have something other than his Colonel’s bars.

What the fuck had he been doing this morning?

“Hoffman.” Beck’s hard gaze drilled into the older man.

Hoffman gave another wan smile and a small nod. “Beck. I’m surprised to see you in your old class A’s. Seems a man with no country ought not to wear something like that.”

Heather could see Beck square his shoulders. There was a pissing match going on that she could only scratch the surface of. “I have the tendency to follow my most recent orders from legitimate leaders within the military.”

“That’s not true, now, is it Colonel?” Hoffman’s sneer had Beck clenching his fists. Heather was positive Beck would punch the other man in the face if he thought he could do so without being ejected from the summit.

She put a hand in the crook of his arm. “Thank you so much for coming to get me, Colonel Beck. Are you ready for our lunch meeting?” It took him a few seconds to actually glance down at her. She raised an eyebrow, asking if he wanted an out from the conversation.

His face remained mostly passive but she could see the frustration sitting between his brows. Beck definitely wanted to leave. He gave her a curt nod and she rewarded him with a blinding smile. “Of course, we should probably fetch Jake. Could you grab him for me and then we can go?”

He watched her a moment longer before dropping into a formal stance. His bow almost made her laugh it was so stiff. She didn’t want to ruin the effect though and she turned back to Hoffman. “It’s been a real pleasure, Colonel, but we have some figures to run before the afternoon. Have a good day.”

She tried to move forward but Hoffman purposefully stepping in her way. “It’s actually General now, Ambassador. And I’m sure I’ll be seeing you later.” Having gotten the last word in, Hoffman moved around her. She stayed stationary for a few seconds, listening to his footsteps. 

That felt like a problem.

Jake and Beck appeared at her sides. Jake looked hassled, probably having been cornered by more admirers. Beck’s clenched jaw was all the information she needed on his mood. “Alright. Back to the hotel. Let’s see what Hawkins was up to this morning.”

She purposefully ignored Beck’s sudden appearance in military dress sans insignia. They’d talk about it over food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've express written the last four chapters in a two week pandemic quarantine induced fugue. I have three more written and I really love them but I need to fine tune them before I post them. So, once my one reader gets through these, give me a few weeks and I shall continue your present.


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